Hobbits?
by Mirnava
Summary: Merlin sees mention of something called a "hobbit" in his magic book. Why is it there? What is it? He needs some answers...
1. Chapter 1

I don't always write crossovers, but when I do, they are mixes of Merlin and Lord of the Rings. Okay... I seriously have no idea where that came from... or, for that matter, the idea for this whole story. However, I thought it pretty good once I wrote it! Enjoy!

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He stood in the library, still searching for the right book. This place was huge! After an hour, he was _still_ no closer to finding it. He walked down a new aisle, running his finger gently across each spine as he passed. He then found himself in an obviously unused part of the library; there was dust covering everything in a stifling blanket, and even the bountiful spider webs had lost their stick. He shrugged. He might as well search here; he had exhausted everywhere else. Gingerly stepping into the mess, his bright red shirt soon dulled due to the accumulating dust. It was even in the very air, which hung thick, making it hard to breathe. Ignoring this for the present, he began his search anew.

There! Reaching out, he felt along the intricate design running along the leather cover. He smiled. _Finally_, he thought. But there was a problem. The book was on the bottom of a waist-high stack of books! He sighed, picking up the first filthy volume to set on the floor next to him. Soon, the pile reached only to his knees. Bending down, he wrapped his slender arms around the rest of the pile atop his quarry and lifted. They were certainly heavier than they looked, he decided. He swung around to place these atop their counterparts, but his foot caught on the leg of a nearby table. Book after book tumbled from his clutch, ending with a cacophony of sound as a jumbled mess on the floor. He stared in horror at the floor, then in the general direction of the librarian's desk before quickly grabbing his book and fleeing, tripping over the clutter in his haste.

Back in his uncle's chambers, he dropped his rag back into the water basin, finished removing the ample dust. His hair no longer appeared a dirty blonde but his normal raven black, and his skin was clean. His ice blue eyes looked condescendingly at his once-red shirt; there was no saving that. He quickly shrugged out of the filth-ridden garment before going to his room within the chamber and donning a clean one. Going back to his uncle's worktable, he dumped the contents of the washbasin into a nearby bucket, intending to dispose of _that_ later. He picked up his prize as he headed back to his room.

He sat on his bed, head and shoulders propped against the wall. He stared intently down at the book in his lap. Now clean, colors seemed to chase one another in carved designs in the ancient brown leather. Shimmering gold runes were surrounded by bright red spirals and blue glyphs. Seemingly random shapes ranged between all colors, without any discernible pattern. More curious than ever, he gingerly slipped a finger under the front cover. Very cautiously, he lifted, until the first page was lying open before him.

He began to read.

_Hobbits, found in Hobbiton, part of the Shire, are a simple folk…._

Merlin found himself thinking about these _Hobbits_ more and more after reading the surprisingly short section written about them in the book he found. To his great dismay, only two pages were written on –beautiful, delicate calligraphy- and the rest was blank parchment.

Unfortunately, the little information that was there –descriptions of their houses and how often they eat- raised many more questions in Merlin's mind than it answered. Did they still exist? How smart were they? Where was the Shire? What did they look like? And most importantly; were they magical beings? Nobody in Camelot had heard of them before, and everything magical was fabled at one time or another not to exist, or simply forgotten about. That would explain why he found the book in a forgotten corner of the library….

Merlin wanted to know more. He _needed_ to know more. What if they existed still? What if they had magic? What would that mean? What _could_ that mean? With Arthur gone to the next kingdom (he had brought _George_ with him…), Merlin had the time to research the strange beings mentioned in his magic book. With Gaius gone, too, though, he could not ask Gaius about the Hobbits. That left one….

The next day, Merlin rode out of Camelot a distance, tied his horse in the forest, and continued the last few yards, coming to stand in a familiar clearing. Raising his face to the sky, he called upon the Great Dragon. Soon, Kilgarrah could be seen winging his way toward the place where Merlin stood.

With great buffets of wind, Kilgarrah landed, turning his curious gaze to rest on the young warlock's face. "I believe you called, Young Warlock," he said. Merlin nodded. "What do you need?"

"Information. Have you ever heard of a Hobbit, Kilgarrah?"

"A Hobbit, you say? Yes, I do believe I have. Met one, too, briefly."

"So they do exist…? Do you know where the 'Shire' is? Have you been there? What did the Hobbit look like?"

"Slow down, please, Merlin! Yes, they are very much real. And, no, I do not know where the 'Shire' is, nor have I been there. Why the sudden interest in Hobbits?" Kilgarrah raised an eyebrow.

"There was one mentioned in my magic book. What did the Hobbit look like, Kilgarrah?"

Kilgarrah thought before responding. "He was rather small, no higher than your waist. He had… dark curly hair, I think, but wore no shoes on his peculiarly large feet…. Well, he looked like a very small human."

Merlin was excited now. "When did you meet him? Where? Can I meet him, too?"

If possible, the Great Dragon looked sheepish. "It was not too long ago, near here. But, I'm sorry, Young Warlock, you are not able to meet him. You see, he was having the most annoying, repetitive conversation with his little grey companion. I was curious about them, but when I showed myself, they grey one shrieked and ran away while the little one drew a small sword. He tried to kill me, so I ate him. He was delicious!" he defended lamely against Merlin's shocked and disgusted look.

"And what was this poor Hobbit saying?" he asked.

"Well, the grey one kept asking what something was –I could not catch what- and the little one just kept repeating, and repeating, very irritatingly, 'Sam told you; 'Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew!'"

Needless to say, Merlin's mouth was hanging wide open.

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Yay! Well, not necessarily for the hobbit... Anyway. What did you think? Did I stay true to the characters? I certainly tried. Was it even remotely funny? Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

__Well, I wasn't planning on writing any more to this story, but then I got a request to do so, so I thought, what the heck. I'll try it. And it's rather fun! :D So I'm continuing it so that Merlin goes and travels to the Shire, and we'll see what happens after that! Enjoy!

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_THWAP!_

Merlin's eyes scrunched as he tried to ignore the pain that that particularly large branch had caused as it flung itself out of his grasp to slap his upper arm - hard. He doggedly continued forward, pushing his way through the ever-thickening branches, his mouth a thin line of determination. His brief chat with the Great Dragon did little more for him than the small entry in his magic book; it bad only brought him MORE questions. So now he was tramping through this forest who-knows-where, following the trail that appeared golden on the ground when he uttered a few words.

But wait! Just like that, his trail disappeared, about five meters in front of him. Not a trace remained; it cut off abruptly, as if someone had cut it with a sword. He knew, though, he could feel, that it was not truly gone. That left him two options; go forward, or go back. He took a steeling breath and pushed on.

One and a half feet from where the golden trail left off, his hand met resistance and he immediately pulled it back, pressing it against his chest as he peered forward. He saw absolutely nothing out of the ordinary, yet when he reached back out, it was still there. Slowly, carefully, he put both of his palms against the force. He pressed experimentally, adding more and more pressure. Before long, Merlin yelped and jumped back, pulling his left hand out of...whatever it was that had begun sucking it in. He held his hand up in front of his face, looking at it thoroughly to ensure it was still intact.

_Hmm,_ he thought. His hand was perfectly fine._ Which can only mean..._ he stopped, looking up with new wonder at the semingly empty space ahead of him. Again, he reached out, pushing through the invisible barrier before pulling his whole hand back and examining it. _Nothing seems to be happening... Only one way to be sure. _Merlin knew now that he was supposed to go through. Taking another deep breath, he walked forward, as confidently as he could. The foreign pressure pushed against his whole body before suddenly vanishing as he continued walking, tendrils of the force snaking away off his shoulders.

He opened his eyes, unaware until now that he had closed them at all. Immediately they went wide, for instead of a dark, dense forest, the sight that greeted Merlin was that of a blue sky and a bright sun illuminating a green, grassy field. The field was rolling with hills, each dotted with brightly colored doors and windows, each door perfectly circular with a shining doorknob in the exact center. Bright flowers grew everywhere, near walkways, on walkways, in gardens, even on the roofs of the little houses. Merlin stood, mouth agape, taking in everything. Then, calm as anything, a litte being appeared, casually strolling down the small road. He had a pipe with an extremely long stem clamped firmly in his mouth, his thumbs hooked on the waist-pockets of the red waistcoat he wore over his white, billow-sleeved shirt. In the last buttonhole of the waistcoat was looped a delicate golden chain, attached to what, Merlin could not guess. His hair was dark and curly, though not unkempt, but it was none of these characteristics that held Merlin's attention long. Instead, it was his disproportionally large, hairy, bare feet and the fact that this creature could not be more than three and a half feet tall that made him stop and stare. Even more than he already was, that is.

The hobbit, for that was the only thing it could be, would have passed Merlin without having ever seeing him if Merlin had not moved at that time. It was only a small movement, the shifting of a foot, but it was enough to break whatever enchantment had rendered him invisible. The hobbit yelped in surprise and jumped two feet into the air, staring straight at Merlin. Merlin did the only thing he could think of. He flashed the hobbit a smile and said, "Hi."

The hobbit bolted.

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Alright. So, short, I know, but what did you think? The next bit is going to be a shift in PoV, to the Hobbit's point of view! Exciting! Who's the hobbit? Is he someone we know? Is he an original character? oooooo... :P

Until the next chapter!

~Mirnava


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